Page 51 of The Now in Forever
“As far as I know, it was just some cosmetic damage. But I’m afraid I don’t know much about the previous owners.”
“Thanks.”
They close the door, taking with them the warmth and strong spices.
I trudge back to Grandma’s car, turning the heat on full blast again as tears fall unchecked down my cheeks.
Ed didn’t come. Not only that, but I have absolutely no way to get ahold of him. He probably doesn’t even want me to. If he wanted to see me again, he would’ve been there.
I drive straight to Robin’s house. She calls Anh over for reinforcements and lends me some cozy clothes. We make hot chocolate and put onElf.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Anh asks, her eyes so full of concern, it makes me want to cry all over.
But I swallow back my tears. “No.”
“At least tell us his name,” Robin pleads. “We might know him; we might know how to get in touch with him.”
It’s tempting. But I don’t want to give up what little I have left of that night. What if he had a girlfriend the whole time? Or what if he’s a terrible person and Anh and Robin know that because they knowhim? But this way, I know Ed. I know the Ed I spent the summer solstice with. And I won’t let anyone take that from me.
“If he wanted to be there, he would’ve been there. He wasn’t. Can we not talk about it anymore?”
Robin and Anh nod. I sip my sweet hot chocolate and try to lose myself in the comedic genius of Will Ferrell, but all I can think about isthat day.
CHAPTER 11
TUESDAY, JULY 2ND
Leaving Anh cuddled up on the couch with her mug of hot chocolate and an Emily Henry book,I check my phone on the way to the lobby. I have three missed texts, all from Ed.
Ed: I can wait if you want.
Then two minutes later.
Ed: Or I can meet you there.
Then five minutes later.
Ed: I’ll meet you there.
A Lyft picks me up, my nerves crackling. I open the purse I borrowed from Anh and remove the contents, searching for my lipstick. Why is it that the smaller the purse, the harder it is to find anything? Finally, I find the lipstick and swipe on a fresh coat, but it doesn’t have the desired calming effect I was hoping for. I don’t need to be so nervous. It’s just a book launch party for a famous author, with a bunch of other famous authors and industry professionals. I wipe my hands on the soft fabric of the seat as the car drives up, up, and up.
I’m equal parts dreading and hopeful that we can find a moment alone so Ed can explain why he stood me up ten years ago. I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t been in the back of my mind ever since I saw him standing in the kitchen. Before that, even. But what could hepossibly say? My mind runs through the familiar loops on the track of possible reasons Ed couldn’t come that day. He had an accident. He was sick, so sick he was in the hospital. He was in jail for robbing a convenience store, only he was the getaway driver, and he didn’t know his friend was robbing it. But they all got busted. He had a terrible head injury that caused amnesia. Or he didn’t and just forgot.
What if his reason is stupid and I can’t forgive him?
The Pittock Mansion comes into view. It’s massive, almost more a castle than a house, gray stone with two spires on either side.There is a balcony that wraps around the bottom, littered with men in tuxedos and women in flowing chiffon and shimmering silk, all chattering with drinks in hand. I exit the car and make my way down the winding path, through a luscious green yard, the scent of roses wafting through the air. I keep my eyes peeled for Ed.
As I walk through the entryway, a server hands me a glass of champagne. An enormous marble staircase with more fancy people takes up the entire entryway. But still no Ed. I continue wading through the sea of people up the stairs. I go to pull out my phone from my purse and send a quick text.
Me: I’m here. Where are you?
To the left of the stairs is astunning library, all dark wood, row after row of leather-bound books, a crystal chandelier and a large carved wood and stone fireplace. They set up a bar in the corner, and that's where I spot Ed. He’s leaning one elbow on the bar, the other holding a crystal tumbler of whiskey.
Ed’s brow is puckered, his mouth a stern line. As he sees me, his forehead relaxes, and his ears rise with his smile. He crosses the room in a black tuxedo with a green satin bow tie that makes his eyes leap from his face. He’s smiling, looking me up and down and sending tingles down my legs.
“You clean up nice,” I say with a smile.
He lets out a breath, like he’d been holding it, and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “You look… Wow.”
